We flattened out our blanket near a few thousand other people who were gathered on the river to watch the fireworks last night. Twenty minutes seem to tick by slowly when you're waiting for something special. Special in spite of the fact that such displays happen every year, though admittedly longer and louder. I always like to pretend like I'm too cool for holidays like Independence Day, but the bottom falls out of that attitude when it comes to the fireworks. They never cease to excite me.
It wasn't until the show began that we, and the thousands of nearby merry-makers, realized our view was obscured by a tree. And a building. And a bridge. What we originally thought was a great space turned out to be the exactly wrong spot. So like the great migration we all moved around the tree, the building, the bridge, in hopes of seeing something before it was over.
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